Arc of Lies
by Saint Danielle
Summary: Arthur Watts was born to rule, not to serve. But, as it was, Salem wasn't one to be usurped so easily. And when all you have as allies is a fanatic and moron, you have to improvise. Arthur hated failure. The boy he picked up was no exception.


**Please, my dear readers, enjoy!**

* * *

How much does your past define you?

Ignoring all the pretentious sell-help literature, one could say that the past is one of the essential parts of your entire sense of self. After all, what are we if not the products of our own past? What pushed us towards the heights of the future if not the dissatisfaction with the past?

Arthur Watts came from a rather humble world. His father was a mere blacksmith. A simple man with simple mind and simple aspirations. His mother was a simple teacher. With humble heart and humble desires. Both of them were like that. With the little bit extra Lien for fresher bread or softer bed being the peak of their ambitions.

Even as a child, he found his parents disappointing.

How could anyone _willingly_ live in mediocrity? Why did they see it as acceptable to not aim for greater things when they had the ability to do so? They said it was because they loved their lives as they were. And they genuinely did.

He, however, did not.

Through his sheer will and skill, he rose above the mediocrity his parents so desired for him and joined one of the most prestigious schools in the entire Mistral. Quite naturally, since he was the son of a blacksmith in the school of rich and powerful heirs, he was the subject to scrutiny and bullying.

An individual with weaker will and mind would succumb to their patronizing remarks and humiliating treatment. A lesser man would run back home. A meaker mind would shatter. A man with no ambition would be devoured.

He wasn't any of those.

If anything, being surrounded by rich and entitled fools born into the power only further moved him to reach for the greater heights. To pursue the absolute power. The power over everything and everyone within his grasp. As the years passed and he grew in influence and resources, he never for once forgot about those that ridiculed and humiliated him. And once the right time had come, he made sure to pay all of them back for their help and guidance.

It was probably around those years that he learnt just how powerful words could be. While not one to be pushed around in physical confrontation, Arthur preferred the intellectual and psychological influence to simple violence.

After all, what else could you do with a sword but maim, kill and threaten? Once your sword was broken, once your body could no longer move, what kind of power did you have?

A word was so much mightier than a sword.

With the right words and gestures, you could bring down cities. Appeal to what people felt. To their fears. To their hatred. To their hopes. To their dreams. And, without raising a fist, you would have them eating from your hand.

But he knew that even such great power wasn't enough to sate his hunger. He knew that he had a higher calling than just that. And so he started searching for it. Behind the shadows and among them, he dug through every single bit of rumor and tall tale in an attempt to find this greater power.

And one day, she found him.

A woman whose mere presence spoke of the power beyond his imagination. Her skin as white as bone and clothes as black as the shadows in his cabinet, the woman he soon grew to refer to as Salem looked at him with as much interest as one showed in a particularly fascinating bug.

She spoke of fairy tales and magic, something that he would dismiss as blasphemy if it were not for the genuity of her voice and the calm of her ruby red eyes. And so he listened to every word of hers, drinking every bit of her tale in.

When the dawn came and the light shone through the windows of his private study, he had already sworn his loyalty to her. To the world she envisioned.

The world he would eventually take for himself.

You never got far in life by being the second best. And if what Salem told him about the Relics was true, then he would never be one to anyone once he got access to such power. For the time being, however, he would settle for playing the role of her loyal servant.

Arthur was no fool. You didn't have to be a genius to see that the woman couldn't be killed through normal means. No knife or fire could possibly harm her. Neither someone as old as she was as prone to manipulation and trickery as the arrogant and entitled leaders and counselors. No, a being like Salem required far more resourcefulness.

He hoped that, among the other recruits Salem sent him after, would share his ambition and join him. But, as the Fate would have it, he had no luck or hope in the men he had to call allies. One was a deranged manchild and another was simply too loyal to Salem. The orphan she picked up later was also no option.

Despite being complimented on his extensive connections in the criminal world, he simply had no opportunity to seek out the new allies. While he was trusted to deal with the likes of Headmaster Lionheart, any and all of his exploits outside of her plan would most definitely draw the unnecessary attention from the Grimm mistress.

He was left with nothing but himself as a King and handful of pawns. But he was nothing if not resourceful. While it would take time and effort, he could make these pawns into proper figures. Yes...

He could do that.

 **(V)**

What does it feel like, living in the spotlight?

To be born a genius and treated as a rare gemstone among your peers since the moment you took up the craft, what could possibly be sweeter? To walk among the crowd and know that all their eyes were on you. In awe. In envy.

What could possibly be better than know that your parents and siblings took pride in you? To wake up every morning and greet them, knowing that you brought glory and honour to your family? To feel your father's encouragement and mother's support?

To feel loved?

Jaune never knew any of this. He was a ghost. Unseen and unimportant. He never had the spark the other children had. He simply lacked anything that made him unique. If the other kids were loud and bright and colorful, he was a pale shadow with no sound. He moved quietly. He never spoke unless spoken to first. And he never showed much emotion other than the lack of thereof.

The teachers at the orphanage whispered behind his back. With pity and sadness, they thought he was... "damaged". Maybe by the parents he couldn't remember. Or by something horrible that took them away. The only thing that he had was his last name, the relic of some warrior house that must have fallen decades ago.

He never could really connect to the other children of his age. Whether it was from his weak health or quietness, he was always avoided by his peers. Or maybe it was the other way around and he was the one avoiding them. Honestly, he couldn't even remember something that insignificant. Unimportant.

Huh... Unimportant. That was exactly how he used to feel about and see himself. Just another face in the overcrowded orphanage in the middle of the nowhere. Someone who didn't care about anything or anyone. And someone whom nobody would care about in return.

He spent every day just sitting in the room he shared with four more kids. As most of the time the latter spent outside, he was almost always alone. Even as his knowledge grew with every book read and memorized, there wasn't really much for him to do with it.

And just like that, he was probably going to spend his entire life. Going through the motions, suffering through mundane tasks of mediocrity he was trapped within from the moment of his birth.

It was just another one of those boring days for him even though every other kid was excited or hopeful. That day their small orphanage was hosting a small open doors day for childless parents from nearby towns to come and adopt the lucky ones. Girls and boys were busy checking their best dresses and shirts, all patches and stains ignored. They talked about how great it would be to finally have a family.

But Jaune just stayed by himself. And as the children went out of their way to be liked, Jaune did what he did best. He watched. And just like that, he kept watching the other orphans go away with their new parents. He saw love. He saw hope.

And he wanted none of it. All he wanted was to feel that he mattered. To feel that his existence had meaning. Some goal.

Arthur Watts gave it to him.

To the world, he was a renowned researcher and political expert. While he was no ruler or commander, the man carried himself with the sense of power and importance. But, even as he talked about donating the orphanage much needed money, Jaune saw something in that man. He saw through the polite smile and gentle but firm voice.

He saw the desire.

The wild and untamed, almost beastly in its nature, ambition. Their eyes met. The older man narrowed his the briefest of moments before going back to the conversation. That moment couldn't last longer than a few seconds.

But Jaune felt like his entire being was dissected and studied with nothing but one small glance.

Silently, he disappeared from the main room and, once upstairs, he ran back to his own. It was the first time he felt something so powerful. The first time he actually felt something normal. It wa

The man gave him purpose and guidance. There was no love or care but, at least, Jaune knew that he mattered. Even as the man taught him the art of deception and manipulation, basically crafting him into a tool for reasons then unknown, all he cared about was making Watts proud.

And why wouldn't he?

Where would he be if it were not for the doctor? Who would he be if it were not for his guidance? Nothing. Nobody. That's all he would be. But now? Now he had purpose.

He finally mattered.

As he relaxed in the comfortable seat of the Bullhead, his eyes half-closed yet sharply observing every single person on it, he silently recited his objectives for the duration of stay in Beacon. Thankfully, it wouldn't be too long. While he had little doubt in his acting skills, spending four years constantly surrounded by teenagers was not a pleasant perspective.

Still, his personal feelings aside, a task was still a task. As Tyrian loved to say, no one dared to upset the Queen. Which, despite the man's obvious insanity, was quite true. As far as Mistress Salem was concerned, as long as their goals were met, any small details were insignificant. Not exactly something Jaune found satisfying, since it was the smallest of details that could bring the biggest changes, but it was her way of thinking.

And it played just in accordance with their own objectives. As Watts once said, the best kind of plans your enemy can have are the ones that you yourself made. All they needed was to just play along with their plans, changing things ever so slightly to manipulate events in their favor. Hence, why his mission suited them just perfectly.

Infiltrate Beacon. Find potential Maiden candidates. Gather all available information on them. Give it to Cinder. And wasn't he lucky that the femme fatale was so dramatic that she didn't want to be served the Maiden on silver platter? She couldn't wait in the shadows, no. She had to do all by herself. He guessed, her uprbringing in the underprivileged and abusive household developed a very intense inferiority-superiority complex. The desire to take everything with her own hands so powerful she was blinded by it.

Well, whatever helped their goals.

"Excuse me, is this seat taken?" the quiet and calm voice asked, the owner of it standing next to him with a small book in her hand. Recognizing the mysterious woman, he did his best not to give his satisfaction away. With a false yawn, he nodded and received a silent reply, "Thank you."

 **[Blake Belladonna]**

Codename: Runaway.

Daughter of the founder of the White Fang, Ghira Belladonna. Adam Taurus' disciple and partner. And one of the organization's top agents. Wanted for theft, assault and attempted assassination and suspected of the terrorist attacks in Mistral.

At least, her alter-ego was.

Carefully, he gazed around the cabin but, safe for some lecherous looks a few guys gave her, nobody seemed to pay her any mind. He quickly reminded himself that not everyone was so invested in the White Fang history to actually know about its founders. Especially when he disappeared to some remote island years ago. After all, to the majority of the public, White Fang were just terrorists, and that was all they needed to know.

But why was she here, he often wondered. There were rumors about the infamous Black Cat of White Fang deserting but to arrive here of all places? To the city that the Fang chose as their next expansion point? Now that was interesting coincidence. Provided that it was one, of course.

Watts did say that Ozpin was a capable manipulator.

While that was something to think over in due time, he still had yet to check the potential Maiden candidates on this ship. Hacking into the Beacon computer wasn't as hard as it possibly should have been but, then again, Ozpin would hardly make it so obvious that he was hiding something from the council.

Making sure that the faunus girl near him wasn't looking, Jaune accessed the list of all the prospective students. When comprising the list, he took into account all the information that could have singled a girl out. Strength. Intelligence. Connections. Skills. Semblances. Backgrounds. All to get as close to the Maiden as possible.

Our of the entire list, however, there was one name that drew his attention the most.

 **[Ruby Rose]**

Codename: Summer Child.

The niece of Ozpin's closest ally and field agent. The daughter of the infamous Summer Rose. While the other people on the list were Champions of Mistral or Heiresses to big corporations, this girl had nothing that truly singled her out.

It wasn't uncommon for prodigies to be sought out and offered early entries into academies like Beacon. Last year, in Vale only, approximately twenty students were accepted into huntsmen academies on recommendations. However, such students also needed to excel in academics and, preferrably, be recommended by the members of the faculty. Miss Rose, however, lacked any of those.

While certainly excelling in weapons design and some basic engineering, the girl was, at best, slightly above average in her overall studies. Additionally, she certainly lacked in emotional maturity and was socially awkward if his sources were to be trusted. Ideally, she could use the last two years in Signal to improve herself in those areas and, possibly, develop emotionally.

So why would Ozpin invite her into Beacon?

As far as the general public knew, the world was safe and sound, with no need for mass producing hunters. Not to mention that, quite amusingly, there were quite a lot of people throughout the Vale Kingdom that were around the girl's level, but none of them were approached by the headmaster.

Coincidences existed. But they were never that contrived.

On the one hand, it all could be a ruse just to lure people like him out. Ozpin knew fully well that keeping Fall Maiden anywhere other than school would require constant surveillance and far more people aware of the threat. None of those, however, were feasible to the man with his paranoia and position.

On the other hand, she could be a genuine candidate for the Maiden. She was young, naive and, most importantly, idealistic. If he remembered correctly, her mother died at young age so the girl probably had some sort of hero complex that could also be exploited. After all, what better way to honour your dead mother than by becoming one of the Maidens?

"Urgh."

The slight shaking of the vehicle made him stop, the unpleasant taste rising in his throat. Stupid motion sickness... Sometimes he almost forgot how much he hated aircrafts. Without showing more than annoyance, he quickly produced a small blue pill from his chest pocket. Nothing could be worse for his cover than accidentally throwing up on someone.

First impressions and all that.

Now then, where was the supposed prodigy of Signal?

"Oh, I can't believe my baby sister is going to Beacon with me! This is the best day ever!"

Yang Xia Long.

Codename: Dragon.

Not a Maiden candidate, but still someone to keep an eye on. If only because of how she and her temper could be used for or against him.

"Ah! Stop it, Yang!"

And there she was. His eyes narrowed as his brain struggled to see what was so special about her. The shopkeeper said that she defeated a bunch of robbers but any idiot with Aura could do it. He knew and understood the other targets. But she... She was an unknown.

He needed to get close to her as soon as possible.

The presence of her sister presented a few problems. For one, only the blind would miss how overprotective the blonde was: combine that with her temper and one wrong move could land him in a hospital. And, even if he did his best, the girl would obviously cling to her sister throughout the flight.

He would have to wait.

 **(V)**

Today was supposed to be the best day of her life, the day when she got into the world's greatest huntsman academy and started training to be a hero! Ever since she was just a little girl listening to the fairy tales, Ruby wanted to experience it all. Not being some princess though, since they always had to wear dresses. No, she wanted to like heroes in those stories. Brave and strong, always there to protect people!

And once she was old enough to learn about huntsmen and huntresses, she made it her goal to become one. Dad unlocked her Aura and uncle Qrow taught her how to fight with a scythe! All she had to do was just wait till she enrolled in Beacon and was just one step away from fulfilling her dream. At least, that was until Headmaster Ozpin offered her a spot in the very school she dreamed of attending.

Didn't that sound like the dream coming true?

But alas, things weren't going so great for her. Her excitement and happiness lasted for about an hour before the reality came crashing down on her. How would she catch up to the rest of the class? What if everyone kept watching her because she skipped entire two years? Would they be envious? Of course, they would be. What if she couldn't make friends? What if she failed in all the non-combat classes and was expelled?

By the time they boarded the Bullhead, Ruby was a walking bundle of nerves and anxiety, holding together only thanks to her sister. The sister that abandoned her not even five minutes after landing to hang out with the bunch of strangers she called friends. If that wasn't bad enough, she just had to bump into some crabby girl who lectured her on Dust! As if the day didn't kick her enough, she ended up lying in a crater like a socially awkward ball of nerves she was.

Did she say her day sucked? Because it kind of did.

"Hey," something blocked her view. Someone very tall at that. She squinted her eyes, eyes adjusting from the overexposure of light, and looked up to see a blonde boy with his hand extended to her, "You need some help?"

Yeah, lots of it. She would settle for being lifted from the ground for now though.

"Thanks," she smiled at the stranger. He looked like a student. Aw, of course, he was. They all were students here. Good thing she didn't say it out loud. "My name is Ruby, by the way. Ruby Rose."

"Yeah, I kind of caught that on Bullhead," he chuckled teasingly. Ruby felt like dying from embarrassment. He knew! "So? Skipped two years and now in the big school? That's really cool."

"Thanks," she mumbled awkwardly. Oh God, not even a day in and she was already seen as someone odd out of the bunch. She needed to change the subject. "By the way, what's your name again?"

Clunky, awkward and hardly proper way to ask. Then again, much better than being treated like bee's knees.

"Jaune Arc," he smiled. He seemed to understand the reason for her sudden question. "Short, sweet, rolls of the tongue. Ladies love it."

Ruby chuckled against herself. It was just so corny even she found it funny. And she literally exploded minutes ago. Then again, she could hardly complain about it. She needed that laugh. "Do they?"

"My sister certainly does," he chuckled at her unintentional comeback. It was obvious he knew how cheesy he sounded with that line. Did he say it just to cheer her up? "So how did you end up in a crater? I think I heard an explosion."

She huffed in annoyance, "Nothing. Let's just forget about that."

No way was she telling him how she got blown up. She still had some dignity left. As the awkward silence settled, Ruby felt the need to fill in the silence. And she did it with the only thing she knew well.

Weapons.

"So... I've got this thing," feeling the familiar coldness of Dust-reinforced steel calmed her down as she displayed the beauty of her baby. "Her name is Crescent Rose. It is high-impact customisable sniper rifle!"

"Wow," he exclaimed. "And you made it yourself?

Ah, maybe this day wasn't so bad after all.

 **(V)**

How to make people trust you?

Make yourself approachable. Make them believe they are the most important person in the room. And, as long as you don't make yourself out to be a complete idiot, the people will keep you around. If not out of kind heart, then for the sake of their own comfort and ego.

Ruby Rose was no exception.

"Wow!" Jaune ignored the urge to roll his eyes at the childish joy the girl took in showing her weapon. He wondered if the girl shared the specifics of her weapon with just anyone or was he special? He doubted he could say that line without the bite though. "And you made it yourself?"

"Yup, all students in Signal are required to build their weapons," she nodded in pride. Jaune was about to comment that assembling already forged parts together wasn't exactly making one yourself but caught himself. Let her think whatever she wanted. "So what do you have?"

Skin-carved Dust Seals. Several bottles of it in his inner pockets. Not to mention his control of Aura.

"Oh, I have this sword," he smirked displaying the silver blade that rested in scabbard only seconds ago. Plain and simple. And, more importantly,non-threatening. "It is a family heirloom. My grandfather used it during the Great War."

A slight appeal to family connections and the importance of it to him. Something he could always use as a nice sob story.

"Wow, really?" he bit back the sarcastic remark about how it also could kill Salem. Instead, he let him the excited teen awe at the weapon in his hands. "You know, not many people appreciate classics. I love it!"

He had to give her point here. While technology was essential part of progress, Jaune often caught himself thinking of just how vulnerable they were with it. Not that he would voice any of it. The conversation was going too smoothly for him to break it off.

They talked about weapons. About school. She told how she wanted to be a normal girl and wished she could make friends like her older sister. Hmm, he needed to write that bit down. As little as it seemed, he could sense certain traces of inferiority complex.

He tried to keep his past vague. However, he saw no actual reason to keep quiet about his family. And so he told her about a huntsman for a father and a doctor for his mother. If the truth ever came out, he always could say he lied because he didn't want to be pitied.

By the time they arrived in the main hall, Jaune was positive that the girl considered him a friend. He waved a goodbye and smiled as the girl ran after her sister. As the more students filled the hall and the headmaster stepped on the stage, Jaune had only one thought on his mind.

 _"Let's start the show."_

* * *

 **And here it is!**

 **Liar and manipulator, Jaune Arc. His name is a lie. His face is a mask. His kindness is deceit. His help is a trap. And his theme is 'You are gonna go far, kid!'**

 **Is there any redemption for him?**

 **I have a theory that huntsmen don't actually make their weapons. I mean, sure, they might be involved in design but other than that, I believe, is all a commissioned work which they later learn to maintain. Seriously, while I don't think Nora is stupid, but can you imagine her building Mahngilda?**

 **When I wrote this story, I had in mind all those stereotypical "I am a liar but everyone loves me" stories. I hope you don't actually like Jaune. Sure, he can be complimented on his play but lying is still not good.**

 **Any thoughts? Suggestions? All feedback is welcome!**


End file.
